Home At Last
by Diva In The House
Summary: House/OMC slash. Another AU scenario for the season 6 finale, this time featuring House and Tony from the Phoenix Rising universe. House struggles in the aftermath of the crane accident, Tony is there for him.


**Okay, so I just couldn't resist doing a slashy version of the season finale. I don't own House, so don't bother suing me.**

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Anthony took care of his last appointment that evening, nodding to his office manager on his way out. "Have a good one, Shelby."

"You too, Tony." Shelby nodded in response. "See you in the morning."

He smiled a little to himself as he climbed into his car for the drive home. His first appointment wasn't until eleven o'clock the next morning, and last he knew, House didn't have a patient. Maybe he could convince House to go in a little later than usual.

He let himself in after a quick stop at the store, easily falling into what had become routine for him. Change clothes, plug in the IPod, start dinner. Some nights House would be home in time to eat with Anthony, some nights he would come crawling in long after Anthony had gone to bed. Those nights Anthony found himself awake, listening as House wandered around the house until he finally made it to bed, wrapping those long limbs around Anthony and curling against him with a sigh.

That alone was worth all the drama that had characterized their first month or so in this house. Between a man who had lived alone for nearly ten years and another who had only lived on his own, things were bound to get interesting. After a few minor tiffs and a blow-up that had gone just beyond that, he and House had finally adjusted to life together, more or less.

_They call me…Doctor Love…_Anthony's phone sang out its familiar ringtone, and he quickly flipped it open. "Hey, hon."

"Hey." House's voice sounded guarded. "Don't bother waiting up for me. Crane collapsed in Trenton. It's become an 'all hands on deck' kind of thing."

"Okay. There'll be something in the fridge for you when you get home." Anthony was concerned, but chose to keep it to himself. "Just be careful out there."

House snorted. "No promises. I'll call if I can." After a brief pause, he added in a low voice, "Love you."

"Love you too, hon." Anthony answered. "Be safe."

He snapped his phone closed and set it on the kitchen counter before continuing with his dinner preparations. The call was no surprise, although the notion of House out on a disaster scene worried him to no end.

He sighed heavily as he finished cooking and got on with his normal evening routine. His phone sang again just as he sat down on the couch.

_I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…so sexy it hurts…_Anthony flipped it open with a smile. "Hey, Simon."

"Hey, honey." Simon's bright voice carried down the line. "You watching the news?"

"I haven't even turned on the TV."

"Some building collapsed in Trenton." Simon informed him. "It's a mess down there."

"Oh, Greg told me about that." Anthony answered. "He's on his way there right now."

There was a long silence before Simon spoke again. "Do you think he should be down there? I mean…surely there are other people who could crawl around in all that mess."

"You know him." Anthony patiently replied. "Once he decides to do something…he's like a dog with a bone."

"I know, honey, I know." Simon let out a short laugh. "Do you want some company? No sense waiting alone."

"Oh, no, it's fine." Anthony assured him. "Wouldn't want to keep you from your evening."

Simon let out a long laugh at that. "I don't have shit going on right now, you know that. Jeffrey doesn't close up his place until late."

"Still." Anthony told him firmly. "I'm good, really. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay." A note of concern seemed to slip into Simon's voice. "Keep me in the loop. If something happens…"

"I know. I will." Anthony answered again. "Bye."

With that Anthony closed his phone and tossed it on the coffee table. The nagging worry wouldn't leave his mind, but there was no point obsessing over it. He already knew that safety was the farthest thing from House's mind. If anything, he would look for anything that might qualify as interesting. The minute he found something that sparked his interest, he'd ship the patient to Plainsboro and get himself out of harm's way.

The thought was enough to reassure him, at least for the time being. He soon lost himself in his new book, and within a couple hours, he could feel himself start to drift to sleep. Falling asleep on the couch hardly qualified as waiting up for House. He would deal with House's mocking when the man showed up.

House's hands were shaking as he unlocked the door to the house and made his way inside. Things had gone from bad to worse over the course of the night, from the moment he had found Hannah trapped in the rubble, to the moment they had made the decision to amputate her leg.

She had died anyway, and the frustration and rage over the situation still coursed through him. Throw in a little fear from the secondary collapse, the tight space, the darkness, and the unshakeable memory of the bus crash just a couple of years before, and it was no wonder that House found himself wishing he hadn't cleared out that Vicodin stash before he had moved out of his apartment and into this house with Anthony.

He finally managed to get the door open, and he spotted Anthony stretched out along the length of the couch, his book on his chest and his eyes closed. The smell of dinner still lingered throughout the house, but House wasn't hungry. The events of the night killed whatever appetite he might have had, and all he wanted to do was find the nearest bottle and climb into it. He didn't have Vicodin, but he was reasonably sure there was a bottle of bourbon around here somewhere. It would have to do, he supposed.

Anthony stirred, shifting and snorting before opening his eyes, blinking when he spotted House. "You made it."

"Yeah." House made his way to the kitchen and finally found the bottle. He briefly considered not bothering with a glass, but Anthony would surely have something to say about that. If not with words, then with a look. The man could pack a bigger punch with his facial expressions than he ever could with words.

Anthony leaned on the counter between the dining room and the kitchen, a concerned expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Sure." House tried to keep the shaking out of his voice, but he couldn't keep his hands from shaking as he found a glass and filled it with ice, filling it with the amber liquid. He caught Anthony's skeptical expression and let out an exasperated huff. "Really. I'm fine."

"If you say so." Anthony was rounding the end of the counter to join House.

House threw him a sharp look before picking up the glass. Before he could get it to his lips, it slipped out of his hand and hit the floor with a crash, shattering into several large pieces. "_Fuck_."

Anthony carefully stepped around some of the smaller pieces to stand behind House, gripping his arms and rubbing them lightly. House closed his eyes at the touch, pressing his hands against the counter, trying to will himself to stop the shaking and failing miserably.

"You're not okay." Anthony spoke quietly, moving to wrap his arms around House.

"No." House replied, his voice soft and ragged. "I'm not okay." He cleared his throat before speaking again. "I had to amputate a woman's leg so we could get her out. Didn't matter. She fucking died anyway."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." House could finally feel himself calming down a little. "Me too."

He straightened up and pulled away from Anthony, turning to lean against the kitchen counter as he held out his hands to Anthony. The other man brushed his thumbs along the top of House's hands, and House could feel the tension start to drain out of him as he gave Anthony the rundown of the night's events.

Suddenly he was grateful that he was here, in this house, with this man. In many ways, Anthony was a better drug than Vicodin ever was. He slipped his hands out of Anthony's grasp and stepped toward him, taking the younger man into his arms and holding him close, releasing a long sigh as he did so.

Anthony wrapped his arms around House in return, lightly rubbing his back with one hand. "I'm glad you made it home."

"Me too." House answered. "There was a moment when I wasn't sure I was going to make it out. Scary stuff."

He was downplaying it, but he was genuinely scared when all that concrete had nearly crashed down on him. House shuddered at the memory.

Anthony backed away slightly with a warm smile, rubbing House's arms affectionately. "Well, you're home now. Guess that's all that really matters."

"Yeah, I'm home." House smiled a little in return. Home has taken on a whole new meaning. It's more than a place to keep his and Anthony's stuff. It's a safe haven, shelter from the storms of life such as the one tonight, and it's been far too long in coming. Better late than never, he supposed. He hated to think what would have happened otherwise.

Anthony tilted his head at House. "Something else on your mind?"

"Shower and sleep." House answered. "The sooner the better."

"Sounds like a plan." Anthony replies with a nod, squeezing House's hands before releasing them and leaving the kitchen.

House cleaned up the shards of glass and the spilled bourbon. Just as well that he didn't drink any of it. It turned out to be unnecessary.

He turned out what was left of the lights before slowly making his way up the short flight of stairs to the bathroom, taking a long, hot shower before crawling into bed beside Anthony and wrapping his limbs around him.

He probably wouldn't sleep tonight, but House didn't care. Just being here with Anthony was good enough. When he felt Anthony's hand cover his own, what little tension that remained dissolved.

House let out a long, hard sigh. Perhaps he would manage to get some sleep tonight after all.

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